Wanderlust, Wonderheart
by Rotten Saint
Summary: Logan and Marie, the two lone wolves at the institute, leave on a journey to discover the dangerous outside world. Their ginger friendship could suffer under the stress, or something else could develop.


_[DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS. SOMEBODY ELSE DOES. DON'T STEAL, AND I'LL LOVE YOU. DO REVIEW, AND I'LL LOVE YOU EVEN MORE. ENJPOY YOURSELF.]_  
  


**WANDERLUST, WONDERHEART  
** a story by Rotten Saint

  
  
  
  
_I took my love and I took it down  
Climbed a mountain and turned around  
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
'Til the landslide brought it down  
  
Oh, mirror in the sky - What is love?   
Can the child within my heart rise above?  
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?  
Can I handle the seasons of my life?  
I don't know...I don't know  
  
Well I've been afraid of changin'  
Cause I've built my life around you  
But time makes you bolder, even children get older  
And I'm getting older too...  
  
So, take my love...take it down  
So if you climb a mountain and turn around  
If you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills...  
Well, the landslide will bring it down  
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
Well, maybe the landslide will bring it down  
Well, well, the landslide will bring it down. (COPYRIGHT © STEVIE NICKS)._  
  
It was a Saturday.  
  
Marie was in her room. She'd been spending a lot of there, lately. She hadn't felt much need to visit the rest of the institution. In the privacy of her room, she could keep the blinds drawn, the lights on low, the stereo volume so soft that only she could hear it. It was like being in a world where she was the last person alive. Even Kitty wasn't much of a problem, surprisingly; she was busy at the school nearly all the time, helping to plan some big social event. A dance or a prom or a banquet. Something dull and ridiculous like that. Kitty usually didn't come back until the twelve o'clock curfew, returning from another one of her dozens of coordinating parties, smelling like perfume and hardly managing to take off her flamingo-pink sweater before she fell into bed asleep. Marie was glad Kitty wasn't around. She'd rather be alone in her room than be forced to listen to the prattling telephone conversations, the silly arguments, the corny jokes. As far as Marie could figure, Kitty had found her little niche in the world, and Marie had found hers.  
  
As simple as that.  
  
Marie brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. The white streaks, the ones she'd added years ago in a fit of rebelliousness, were gone. Her hair was completely brown now. The colour of tree bark. Marie hadn't warned anyone about her change in appearance. It had all been spontaneous. A few days ago, after school, she'd walked alone to the corner drugstore and searched the aisles until she found a dye that matched her exact natural hair colour. It hadn't been that hard, Marie reflected bitterly. Obviously her hair was as common as her name. _MEDIUM BROWN #8B_, the cardboard box had read. Late that night, as Kitty slept, Marie had dowsed her head with the dye and wrapped her wet hair in a towel. The next morning the white streaks had vanished.  
  
Everybody at the breakfast table had been tactful enough not to mention it, but Marie had caught quite a few startled stares in her direction. She'd kept her face blank and avoided any chance of questioning. She didn't feel like explaining herself to anyone. Not to Kitty, not to Kurt, not to Scott, not to Jean. _Especially_ not to Jean. The truth was, Marie wasn't even sure why she had done it herself. It had just seemed like a good idea at the time.  
  
Now she wasn't so sure.   
  
Marie snuck a quick peek into the mirror. With the streaks gone, she looked almost normal. Her Medium Brown #8B hair fell down past her shoulders, straight and smooth, framing a pale face and enormous coffee-coloured eyes. Marie hadn't even bothered wearing her black lipstick and bright violet eyeshadow. She wouldn't be seeing anybody today. Without the fierce black coating, her mouth appeared soft and vulnerable. Marie looked closer, studying her face. Her eyelashed looked longer than she remembered. And could those be _freckles_ on her nose? With a snort of annoyance, Marie realized she looked about twelve years old. She stood up abruptly, scanning the room for her spiked dog collar.  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
"Who's there?" Startled, Marie turned around. She wasn't wearing anything but a tank top and underwear. She couldn't imagine who would want to see her at - Marie checked the clock - one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon. "Ah'm sorta busy right now, actually."  
  
"Can I come in? I won't be long."  
  
It was Ororo. Rogue caught sight of a pair of jeans sticking out from under her bed. She grabbed them and began wrestling her legs inside. "Um - wait a moment! Ah'll be there in a second!"  
  
Ororo waited patiently outside the door as Marie zipped her fly, fastened the button, pulled on a concert t-shirt, and ran a brush hastily through her hair. She couldn't find her black lipstick, so instead she smeared on a dab of crimson gloss Kitty had left out. Then she dashed across to the door, took a moment to catch her breath, and yanked it open. Ororo smiled down at Marie. She tried to keep her face pleasant and neutral, but Marie caught the quick look of surprise that passed through her eyes. She scowled at the white-haired woman. "What do you want?"  
  
"Do you mind if I come in?"  
  
"Sure. Whatever." Marie stepped back, allowing Ororo to enter. "Am Ah in trouble or something?"  
  
"What? Of course not, Marie. You're not in trouble." Ororo gave her a reassuring smile. "This is a purely personal visit."  
  
"Oh." Marie considered this. "OK."  
  
Ororo looked around the room furtively. On Kitty's side of the room, the bed was neatly made, the dresser was clean and organized, the walls were demurely decorated with a few polaroids of Kitty's friends at school and pop band posters. On Marie's side of the room, the bed was rumpled and covered in clothing, the walls were littered with dark watercolor drawings, and the floor was a carpet of art supplies: sketch pads, watercolors, brushes, pens, pencils, and blank sheets of paper. Ororo gazed at one of the half-finished drawings. It showed a girl, a girl with big eyes and straight dark hair, crouching over a flower with a pair of scissors in her hand. Marie caught Ororo looking at the picture and quickly edged it under the desk with her foot.  
  
"So," she said, not meeting Ororo's eyes. "Why do you want to talk to me? Ah mean, it's not like you just suddenly got a burning desire to visit me for fun. Something is up. Admit it."  
  
Ororo didn't answer. "Why don't you put some music on, Marie?"  
  
Marie looked at her suspiciously for a second, then went over to the night stand and began rifling through her CDs. She pulled out a Fleetwood Mac CD. "Do you mind Stevie Nicks?"  
  
"Not really." Ororo raised her eyebrows, looking surprised. "You - you like Stevie Nicks, Marie? I thought you liked heavy metal. Stevie Nicks isn't very hardcore." She laughed.  
  
Marie sighed gustily. "Kitty left it one day and Ah started listening to it. Ah don't know. It's not that bad, Ah guess." She popped the CD into the stereo and turned the volume up slightly. "Ah mean, Ah like this song. Landslide. It's . . . sad. Or something."  
  
"Hmm." Ororo nodded encouragingly, sitting down gingerly on the edge of Kitty's bed. "Well, I'm glad you're broadening your musical tastes, Marie."  
  
Marie sat down across from Ororo and looked at her questioningly, face unsmiling.  
  
Ororo sighed and began playing with her hair, seeming slightly nervous in spite of herself. "OK. I guess I better be honest with you, Marie. I'm here because a few of us are-" Her throat caught slightly on the word- "_worried_ about you." She gazed anxiously at Marie and plowed on. "We think there's something wrong in your life right now. Not wrong with _you_, of course. Just - I guess we've all noticed how unhappy you look recently. And you've been locked up in your room for nearly a week now. Except for school and meals, you aren't coming out at all." She paused. "Do you think this is normal behaviour, Marie?"  
  
Marie just shrugged.  
  
"What's wrong, Marie?" Impulsively, Ororo leaned across the gap between them and laid a hand on Marie's knee. Marie's face grew cloudy. Ororo peered into her eyes. They looked round and childish without the make up, but she could see a spark of _something_ deep down in the coffee-brown depths, something dark and ancient: rebellion? Sadness? Despair? Heartache? Anger? Ororo drew back, looking at Marie with a mixture of confusion and pity ."I don't know how I can help you if you refuse to tell me what's the matter."   
  
"Well," Marie said, keeping her voice carefully even, "not to be rude or anything, but Ah don't remember saying Ah needed anybody's help. Ah'm perfectly fine."  
  
"But Marie, it's so obvious that you're unhappy. Look at yourself. You haven't seen the sunshine in weeks. You spend all your time alone, lying on the floor drawing tragic pictures, and you won't even admit anything is wrong. Don't you _want_ to be happy? Don't you want to make new friends and see the world?" Ororo appealed.  
  
Marie rolled her eyes. "Hanging around Bayville with a bunch of high schoolers is hardly what Ah'd call 'seeing the world.'"  
  
_'I took my love and I took it down . . . '_  
  
Ororo sighed. "Yes, but-"  
  
"There is no 'but.'" Marie rose abruptly to her feet, walking over to the window and pulling back the curtains. It was a rainy day and the sunshine was dim. The sickly light gave Marie's skin a faint glow; her eyes seemed even darker than usual. She gazed out at the bleak courtyard. "Ah don't know," she whispered, half to herself. "Ah mean, sometimes Ah just feel like I'm - in prison. Like Ah'm in a cell."  
  
_'And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills. . . '_  
  
"The insistute doesn't keep you locked up, Marie. In fact, we've always encouraged you to do things outside the school," Ororo pointed out.  
  
"Ah'm not even talking about the school. It's not that." Marie let the curtains fall back into place. "Ah guess Ah don't know what I'm talking about. It's kind of hard to put into words."  
  
"I understand," Ororo said, quietly.  
  
To the surprise of both of them, Marie managed a smile. "Thanks," she said, after a few moments of silence. "Ah mean, for worrying about me and everything." She shrugged awkwardly. "You know."  
  
"I was just trying to help a friend."  
  
Marie bit her lower lip, blushing a little. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem, Marie." Ororo stood up and squeezed Marie's shoulder. "I'm glad I could help."  
  
_'Can I sail with the changin' ocean tides?'_  
  
They started for the door. Neither of them was exactly sure what had happened, but both seemed to feel that there was no more need for discussion. Ororo snuck a peek at Marie and felt a nag of doubt. The girl still had the sad look on her face, that bitter glimmer in her eyes, that dejected twist of the mouth. Ororo wondered if it was possibly for _anyone_ to help the girl. She didn't want to be cruel. but Marie almost seemed like a lost cause. There was nothing a woman like Ororo could do to help, at any rate. As much as she'd like to.  
  
"How's school?" Ororo asked, pausing at the door. "Everything going OK?"  
  
"Yeah, whatever. It's just school." Marie shrugged carelessly. "Ah can handle it."  
  
"You're a senior, aren't you?"  
  
"Just since the start of the year."  
  
Ororo smiled. "Before you know it you'll be graduating."  
  
"Ah guess so."  
  
"Tell me, Marie: do you plan on going to college? I mean, you're obviously a very talented artist. Those watercolours are gorgeous. Really." Ororo saw the familiar guarded look come down over Marie's face. She faltered slightly. Damn. "I was just thinking, you could probably get a wonderful scholarship with your talents. I know this school in New York, a small liberal arts college. I think you'd like it. Everybody there is a little-" Ororo paused.  
  
"Freakish?"  
  
Ororo laughed. "That's one way of putting it, I guess."  
  
"Ah don't know. Ah'm not sure if Ah even want to go to college. It's just more classrooms and textbooks." Marie held the door open for Ororo and watched as she stepped out into the hellway. "Anyhow, it's too early to think about those things."  
  
Ororo seemed on the verge of saying something else; then she caught Marie's expression and decided against it. Instead she smiled warmly. "It was nice talking to you, Marie. I hope everything gets better for you."  
  
"Yeah." Marie stroked her hair back from her forehead. "Are you all still going to the movies tonight?"  
  
"I think so. Everybody except Logan." Ororo gave her a hopeful look. "Are you planning on coming?"  
  
Marie ignored the question. Her brow furrowed. "Logan isn't coming? Why not? Ah thought he usually went to keep you guys company."  
  
"Yeah, he usually does, but he has this trip coming up tomorrow morning. I guess he's just too busy." Ororo shrugged and smiled ruefully at Marie. "So. I guess you won't be coming with us, huh?"  
  
"Hmm. Ah guess not." Looking completely preoccupied, Marie wandered back into her room and shut the door firmly behind her.   
  
Ororo sighed.  
  
  
  


--------------------------------

  
  
  
  
Logan wasn't exactly sure why he was going on the trip. A lot of things had been like that for him, lately. Spontaneous. Unpredictable. He'd been having trouble sleeping. No matter how heavy his eyelids felt, some feverish energy kept him wide awake all night, tossing and turning beneath his sheets until a few hours of sleep came along with the morning light. He'd taken to pacing the halls in the dead of night, even going out into the courtyard and smoking beneath the stars. He had been trying to cut back on cigarettes, just to see if he could break the habit, but now nicotine seemed like the only solution. Well. Nicotine, _and_ this trip.   
  
It was obviously time to leave the institute.  
  
Logan didn't really have anything against the school. It was a nice place. A _wonderful_ place, in fact. He wished he had had something like this around when he was young. Only - now he wasn't young. He didn't feel young and he didn't think young. The kids were great; Logan would never stop being cracked up by them. And Ororo and the professor would always be close friends, of course. But Logan didn't feel like he fit in anymore. What was he doing, anyway? Sitting around a school for teenagers, completely useless, laughing at corny jokes over dinner and going to the movies every Saturday night?  
  
This wasn't the life Logan wanted. It was nice in small doses, but _hell_. He had things to do and people to see. He had to get on the road again, get hammered off his skull at sleazy joints, beat the shit out of strangers, sleep under the sky with a pistol in one hand and a cigar in the other, swear like a sailor, wolf-whistle at gaudily-dressed women, drive and drive until he'd run out of gas or reached the end of the road, whichever came first. And then - he would figure out what to do next.  
  
Naturally, this was a far cry from the explanation he'd given to the professor. "I need some time to figure things out," he'd said, scratching the back of his neck. "I just need a little peace and quiet for a while. You understand. Alone time."  
  
Logan wondered what the professor would think if he knew the real reasons for Logan's journey.  
  
Logan wondered if the professor _did_ know the real reasons for Logan's journey.  
  
Logan lifted a shirt out of his drawer and folded it into his suitcase. Look at what living around Ororo and Jean had done to him; he was actually _packing._ Logan shook his head, smirking at himself. It was good he was getting away from here. If he stayed much longer, next thing he knew he'd be into crochet and gourmet cooking. Logan shut the suitcase and snapped the lock down. He'd told everyone he was leaving the next morning, but the truth was, he was leaving tonight. Late. Long after the kids' curfew. If he couldn't sleep anyhow, what was stopping him from just driving away into the night?  
  
There was a knock on his door.  
  
Logan looked up, startled. Ororo had told him that a large group of them were going to see some movie at the theatre. Kitty was off at another coordinating party, and Marie - _Marie._ It had to be her. Logan had noticed a weird look in her eyes lately. A look that reminded him uncomfortably of himself. Logan went to the door and flung it open without warning.  
  
Marie blinked up at him, looking half pleading and half rebellious.  
  
Logan studied her without speaking for several moments. "Kid."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do you have any idea how annoyin' it is to always be right?"  
  
Marie frowned, confused. "What?"  
  
"Never mind." Fighting against frustration, feeling resigned to his fate, Logan walked back to his bed and hefted his suitcase off the pillow. "Anythin' I can do for you tonight?"   
  
"Well." Marie stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She looked tense but determined; a girl with a mission. He knew that face. "Ah - Ah need a favor, Ah guess you could say." She twisted her fingers nervously. "A big favor."  
  
"You don't say."  
  
Marie looked at him suspiciously, as if she thought he was making fun of her.  
  
Logan smiled encouragingly. "Go on. What favor do you need, kid?"  
  
"Ah - Ah need to come with you." Marie said this all in a rush and then stood there, very still and very pale, giving him a defiantly hopefuly gaze. Logan didn't even try to feign surprise. He had been expected this exact thing to happen ever since the knock on the door. He looked back at Marie, wondering what he could say to her that wouldn't hurt her feelinsg and still get the message across: _NO._ She looked young tonight, somehow. No black lipstick, no spiked choker. Big eyes. Freckles. Carrying her around would be like chaperoning a sixth-grader.  
  
"Well?" Marie whispered, obviously sick with suspense. "Can Ah come?"  
  
"Kid, why are you doin' this?" Logan sighed. "You're just settin' yourself up for disappointment. You know I'm not gonna take you. Go back to your room and get some sleep."  
  
Marie's face fell. "Ah don't want to _sleep_, Logan. Ah want to go with you."  
  
"Well, we can't always get what we want in life."  
  
Marie scowled, seeming on the verge of tears.  
  
"Hey, kid. I've been having sorta a tough week, OK? Would it be too much for you to just leave me alone and let me go on the fuckin' trip? Jesus." Logan ran a hand through his hair. "Come on. Cut me a little slack."  
  
Marie didn't budge. "Why can't Ah go? Just give me one good reason."  
  
"All right," Logan agreed. "Here's your one reason: it's my truck, and I want to be _alone._ No stowaways."  
  
Marie's eyes filled with tears.  
  
"Oh, christ, kid, not the tears. You must have known I'd say no. I mean, kid, be serious. Can you picture me lettin' a little sixteen-year-old girl-"  
  
"Ah'm seventeen-"  
  
"-A little _seventeen_-year-old girl come along with me on a road trip? This is supposed to be private time, you know. Not a fucking - a fucking party."  
  
"Ah don't want a party, Ah just want to get away. And you know me, Logan, Ah'm mature, Ah won't make any trouble for you. In fact, you can just drop me off somewhere, let me get a ride, Ah'll-"  
  
Logan cut her off, incredulous. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me, kid? What, do you want to get raped? Do you want us to find your body in a ditch somewhere? It's a strange world out there. You're just too sheltered to realize it." Logan started for the door. "Which is exactly why you can't come."  
  
Marie sounded desperate. "But Ah - Ah need to learn how to be on my own - Ah need to get away -"  
  
"How would I explain to the professor? He's your legal guardian, you know. You can't just sneak off in the middle of the night. Not with my help, anyway." Logan shook his head. "Christ. You kids."  
  
"Ah'm not a kid!" Marie snapped.  
  
Logan raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Or - at least - Ah wouldn't be one, if everybody would stop treating me like one," Marie said, looking dejected. She gazed at Logan with sad, saucer-round eyes. "Ah thought you'd understand."  
  
"Sorry to pop your bubble, kid, but you just aren't goin' on this trip. Maybe one day when you're older." Logan opened the door and started out into the hallway, eager to leave before anything else came up to complicate matters. That Marie was a strange one. He always felt a little nervous when she got into these moods . . .   
  
"Ah feel like Ah'm in prison."  
  
Logan stopped in his tracks, reluctantly, almost against his will.  
  
"Ah feel like Ah live at the bottom of a cell, and Ah can only see a sliver of daylight. Just patterns on the wall. Ah feel like Ah'll be trapped forever." Marie sighed quietly. "And nobody will ever help me get out, because they don't even know Ah'm down here."  
  
There was a long silence.  
  
Slowly, Logan turned around. His face was resigned. "How fast can you pack, kid? Can you be ready in half an hour?"  
  
Marie nodded.  
  
  
  



End file.
